The Icemark Chronicles: The Cry of the Icemark (35 page)

“But … but the people of the Polypontian Empire speak a
different language. You couldn’t talk to them. You couldn’t talk to them at all!” said Thirrin, her voice rising in triumph as she realized the importance of the point.

“A different …
language?”
the Thar said as though he found the word strange. “Do you mean that the humans of the Empire use different words when they speak?”

“Completely different. In fact, only the peoples of the Icemark and the Icesheets use the language that we’re speaking now. The Wolffolk use it as a common tongue to communicate with other species, and even Their Vampiric Majesties use it.” Thirrin could scent victory now, even though it was still faint and distant. All she had to do was present her arguments with logic and precision and perhaps she could win!

But the Thar was far from finished. “Queen Thirrin, it almost sounds as if you want us to fight these people simply because they speak a different
language,
as you put it, and because they come from a different part of the world,” he said with quiet determination.

Thirrin tried to suppress her frustration; she just seemed to be confusing things. “No, great Thar. The Icemark has never fought a war or taken a life for any reason other than self-defense! We judge people on their conduct and their personal spirit; the language they use and the place of their birth is of no importance to us. We are but two closely linked peoples who face a common enemy, an enemy who has set out to conquer the world with evil and aggression.”

A lone voice called, “How do we know that the people of the Empire use different words? Speak some of them, let us hear how different they are.”

“But I don’t know any,” she said, feeling horribly deflated as her chance of winning over the leopards seemed to be slipping away.

“Um … I know one phrase, I think,” said a small voice from the shadows beneath the boulder-throne.

Thirrin peered down into the gloom and hissed, “Well, get up here, then. And be quick about it!”

Oskan scrambled up onto the boulder and stood blinking in the brilliant light of the moon. But the sight of the huge crowd of leopards cramming the lower end of the Ice Valley seemed to strike him dumb, and he stood staring at his feet like a bashful schoolboy.

“We’re waiting,” the Thar rumbled impatiently. “Say these words, let us hear how different their language is.”

Oskan looked and felt so completely unlike a warlock that he could have cried. In fact, he very nearly did, as terrible stage fright threatened to completely overwhelm him. But then, slowly, a small spark of courage ignited in his brain and, taking a deep breath, he suddenly bellowed,
“Veni, Vidi, Vici!”

The shrill sound of his panicking voice cut the freezing air, and a rumble broke out through the ranks of leopards.

“Yes, that’s it,” he said, his confidence returning with every second. “
Veni, Vidi, Vici.
Maggiore Totus, one of Queen Thirrin’s advisers, once told me that the generals of the Empire use this phrase every time they invade a new land. It’s a sort of ceremonial chant.”

“All very interesting, I’m sure,” Tharaman-Thar said. “But what does it mean?”

“It means ‘I came, I saw, I conquered.’ Maggiore said the Polypontians are always so certain of winning when they invade, they proclaim victory as soon as they set foot on foreign soil.”

Another rumble of growling arose from the huge crowd of leopards. The arrogance of the Empire seemed to anger them.

“I see,” the Thar said slowly. “And do they always win? You seem to imply they’re invincible.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t be preparing for war now,” said Thirrin. “I know they can be defeated. Just after Yule my father, King Redrought Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield, destroyed a single Polypontian army. But make no mistake, any victory against the Empire comes at great cost. The army of the Icemark was also destroyed in the clash, and my father was killed.” She stopped. A strange rumble became a crescendo of sound as the huge cats let out a tumble of coughing barks that echoed and rolled around the valley before slowly dying away.

She looked questioningly at Tharaman-Thar. “A warriors’ salute to the brave dead,” he explained. “King Redrought and his army must have been mighty indeed.”

“They were,” she answered proudly, suddenly realizing that his sacrifice and her own courage were making a bigger impression on the leopards than all her arguments so far. “My father’s achievement did not end the invasion attempt; it only bought us a little time. In fact, as huge as the force was, he only defeated the vanguard that had been sent to test our defenses. If they could have, they would have swept through the land and added the Icemark to the Empire then and there. But thanks to my father, they have had to reschedule that for next spring.

“If the Empire had succeeded, no mercy would have been shown. When the Empire conquers, the defeated soldiers are killed, their homes are looted and burned and, of those who are left, the very young and the very old are murdered and the strongest are enslaved. These are the people you will face — either as part of an alliance that has at least some small hope of success or, at some point in the future, standing alone, with no hope whatsoever.”

“Queen Thirrin, I can see you’ve been completely honest
with us,” said Tharaman-Thar. “You’ve warned us that if we don’t fight, there is every possibility that the Empire will eventually seek us out and destroy us, but you’ve also warned us of the terrible dangers we’ll face if we choose to join your alliance. As Thar of the Leopards of the Hub, I could command my people to fight in the coming war, but I will not do so. The choice must be theirs.”

He looked out over his Snow Leopards, who were all listening intently to his words, then he turned back to Thirrin and Oskan. “For my own part I say we should seize the faint hope that alliance gives us and defend the Icemark in the coming offensive. But that may not be the opinion of my people.” He paused. “There is a factor to be taken into account that you know nothing of, Queen Thirrin.”

“And that is …?”

“We’re already fighting a war.”

“Already fighting …?” Her voice trailed away as she realized the hopelessness of her situation.

“Even if the Parliament of Leopards does agree to join your alliance, we couldn’t send an army of full strength, because we need to defend our eastern borders against the Ice Trolls.”

“Ice Trolls! Who exactly are they?” Thirrin asked quietly, as she realized that her mission to the Snow Leopards might have been a complete waste of time.

“They’re our archenemies. They hate all warm-blooded creatures and invade our borders every winter. So far we’ve always driven them back, but if we deplete our forces too much, they could overrun our lands, destroy our holds, and kill our people.”

Thirrin nodded resignedly. Her worst fears were being confirmed, but she listened politely as Tharaman-Thar went on.

“However,
I think we could maintain our garrisons on the
eastern borders if I lead my own personal guard in the war against the Polypontians and call for volunteers from the hold militias of the west. None of these troops has ever figured in the army of the eastern borders, and so there’ll be no weakening of our defense force.”

“How many soldiers could you bring with you?” Thirrin asked eagerly as her spirit revived.

“The Royal Guard stands at one thousand leopards, and perhaps another thousand could be raised from the militias.”

She almost squealed with delighted relief, and then remembered the leopards had yet to vote. “Lord Tharaman-Thar, the Icemark and all the lands of the north would be forever in debt to your people if they chose to form an alliance with us. Could you please ask them to make their decision?”

Suddenly the huge leopard reared up on his hind legs, towering over the land like the living threat of an avalanche, and he roared three times into the frozen sky. “Hear now my voice and make your decision, Leopards of the Hub. No people can stand alone against two enemies; we would be crushed between the hammer of the Empire and the anvil of the Ice Trolls. But now we are offered friendship and alliance with human beings who will stand with us in a new type of war against a people overwhelming in number and terrible in power. Consider, then, your options: alliance and possible death with Queen Thirrin of the Icemark, or isolation and certain death when the armies of the allies are destroyed and none are left to stand with us.” The Thar paused to look out at the giant cats that covered the contours of the Ice Valley like a living carpet. The silence that rose from them was absolute; only the gently moaning wind and the whispering chink and crackle of the frost could be heard. Then Tharaman-Thar
drew breath and boomed, “The choice, my people, can only be yours!”

Back came the answering barks, crashing into the sky in an eruption of sound that rolled again and again around the valley. Neither Thirrin nor Oskan could make out any answer or opinion in the stupendous noise. But eventually all fell silent, and Tharaman-Thar nodded.

“The Parliament has spoken, Thirrin-Thar. Have you anything to say?”

“I would have if I knew what the decision was,” she said, her tone a mixture of anxiety and annoyance.

“You have won the day. The Leopards of the Hub will fight in your alliance.”

T
he Basilea of the Hypolitan watched the troops maneuvering on the plain below the hill where she sat on her horse. She was secretly pleased, but she kept this fact carefully hidden from her officers who stood nearby. Before her niece Queen Thirrin had even set off on her quest for allies, it had been agreed that every soldier would receive the same training and instruction as the elite housecarls. And as a result the fyrd had been called in, and basic weapons training had been followed by war games, forced marches, and other endurance tests.

The housecarls, in an attempt to maintain their standing as the elite of the army, had voluntarily brought in their own training regime in which they marched longer, fought harder, and endured more than the fyrd. It was all going very well, and if the Basilea Elemnestra had her consort to thank for it, she certainly wouldn’t say so … in public.

She turned in her saddle, caught her husband’s eye, and gave the slightest of nods to show her pleasure. Olememnon remained stony-faced, but when no one else was looking, he winked in return. After thirty years together, they didn’t need long speeches to make the other understand.

The other sections of the army were also training hard. Day after day the cavalry had practiced formations, and if the wooden practice dummies had really been Polypontian troops, then the Empire’s armies would already have been several thousand soldiers short as they were hacked by cavalry sabers and spitted by lances.

The regiments of archers spent most of the daylight hours practicing in the butts, shooting wave after wave of arrows in a devastating rain down on targets drawn in the snow. Some of them were even proud that they’d trained until their fingers bled, but after several had been put on charges for “neglect of the person” by the Basilea herself, the rest made sure they always wore their leather finger-guards.

As Basilea, Elemnestra didn’t often review the progress of training personally. She had enough to do with the day-to-day administration of her province and preparing for the coming campaign. But word had been received that Thirrin was returning at last and bringing allies with her. Admittedly the report had been a little garbled, and she’d had the messenger censured for being drunk on duty when he delivered it. But even so, Thirrin was coming home, and as Basilea, Elemnestra was determined not only to be in total control of all preparations when the Queen returned but also to be
seen
to be in control.

As she watched the regiments on the training ground below forming shield-walls and attacking one another with blunted swords, she ran over the exact wording of the messenger’s report. She finally decided that she was quite prepared to believe in the two dozen white werewolves pulling the Queen in a sleigh; she was also happy to accept that her niece’s adviser was a warlock. No surprises there at all, really. In her opinion Oskan was shifty and had an air of deviousness about him that was completely explained by the fact that he was a male witch.
But she would never believe that Thirrin had made an alliance with a species of giant white Snow Leopard that lived at the Hub of the World. It was quite obvious that the messenger had been drinking and had probably seen cavalry regiments that were all mounted on white or dappled horses. Amazing enough in its own right, without any need for embellishments. She hoped the messenger had been correct about the numbers, though; three thousand cavalry would be a very useful addition to their army.

Her mind continued to run over preparations and problems posed by the coming campaign, but after a while she found herself becoming absorbed in the mock maneuvers on the plain below. The defending troops were all made up of units of the fyrd, while the attacking soldiers were housecarls. For more than twenty minutes the conscripted soldiers had managed to hold the professional housecarls at bay, while the drums rattled and boomed over the frozen air, giving a rhythm and sense of cohesion to the defenders’ efforts to hold their line. The drums had been Maggiore Totus’s idea; he’d told them that the Empire used the instruments to intimidate their enemies, but he’d developed the system further by using different beats and rhythms to give instructions and orders in the heat of battle. A commanding officer could send a message to the drummers, and the regiments could then be ordered to the left, or to the right, to hold their position, advance or retreat.